


Why Are We Talking About This?

by NemesisGray



Series: Shallow [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:42:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29595045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NemesisGray/pseuds/NemesisGray
Relationships: Female Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Aric Jorgan
Series: Shallow [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157507





	Why Are We Talking About This?

Hoth was an unmitigated disaster. At least for whatever type of friendship had been forming between Neacht and Aric Jorgan.

The only bright spot was the successful recruitment of Blizz and Qyzen as well as the Jawa’s crew and the Warstalkers.

At least that was successful.

Neacht didn’t bother trying to talk to the surly Cathar as he piloted the ship back to Odessen; Blizz and Qyzen had their own ships. 

She tried apologizing for hurting Aric’s ears but he was having none of it so she stopped trying.

Instead, she’d taken to haunting the engine room. It took her exactly two minutes to cross if she stopped every two feet for five seconds. Or so she thought; she wasn’t as great at mathematics as Kira.

Or Aric Jorgan.

No, Neacht wasn’t as great as Aric Jorgan. Not as calm or as collected or as wise as Aric Jorgan.

No. Neacht was merely just Neacht. She’d never be anybody else so really why was Aric so damn angry at her? 

He hated that Neacht was Neacht. She could tell. Feeling didn’t lie. He didn’t want to be on a mission on Hoth with her. He didn’t want to sleep in the same tent as her. He didn’t want to share rations.

He hated that Neacht was Neacht.

She learned from Lana that she cleared up the Cathar’s misconception about the dinner and yet…

And yet he was too damn stubborn to accept Neacht’s apology!

Snarling, she kicked the wall, the sting of contact between her bare foot and the metal of the wall satisfying in the way punching a wall was. As in, it wasn’t but the physical pain at least pulled her from her depressed spirally thoughts.

Speaking of punching a wall, that’s exactly what Neacht did, hissing at the way the skin of her knuckles broke, the feeling of her blood flowing over her bare fingers, the sound of it dripping onto the floor.

At least, she was no longer thinking about Aric Jorgan.

She hissed at her traitorous thoughts. Snarling, she pulled her fist back again, intent on striking the wall-

“Commander,” Aric’s voice pulled her focus.

“Major,” Neacht sniffed, turning and hiding her bleeding hand behind her back; not that he wouldn’t be able to smell the blood.

He gazed critically, questioning at her hidden injured hand before he seemingly snapped out of his stupor. “We should talk about the dinner.”

Neacht knew in that instance what Theron meant when he said he was frustrated enough to pull his own hair. She wished she had hair specifically to tug to showcase her emotions. “No, we really shouldn’t.” 

She decided since Aric wasn’t accepting her apology then she would literally put the date out of her mind. It could go in the Memories to NEVER Revisit Folder; the same place she stuck her memories of the time she was controlled by Vitiate, the fight with Heskal, when her father said she was unwanted, when her father said she wasn’t Force-sensitive and as such she wasn’t his child, and when she met her biological mother only for her mother not to recognize her.

“Respectfully, Commander, I disagree.” He blocked the door, standing at ease but still with enough ingrained respect in his posture to show he had reverence for her rank but enough defiance to show it wasn’t her he respected.

It hurt and Neacht didn’t want to think of an explanation. “Of course you do.” Tossing her hands up, she scoffed, placing her hands on her hips, mindless of her still bleeding hand smearing blood on her pants. “You disagreed with every decision I’ve made this entire mission. Honestly, Major, why did you bother coming?”

“I promised on Odessen.” The words ground out through gritted teeth, his posture stiffening.

“And you’re a man of your word.” Neacht didn’t mean for the words to sound so caustic but they were in an argument, she didn’t know why but she wasn’t about to back down.

“I am,” Aric stood straighter, pride straightening his spine. “And that’s why we need to speak about what happened on our-” he looked like he swallowed something disgusting- “ _ date _ ,” he growled the word.

“There’s nothing to talk about. We were both under misapprehensions. You thought I asked Lana for a date and I thought it was a practical joke.” Neacht tried to look nonchalant as she crossed her arms, but it was hard to do under Aric’s intense gaze.

“Practical joke?” His gaze sharpened and he took a menacing step forward.

“Yeah,” she shrugged defensively, “Lana’s sense of humor is shit. Just ask Koth and Theron. She set Senya and Koth up on a date about a year ago. Theron was set up with Teeseven two weeks ago. Of course Lana would set me up on a date with you. She knows-” Neacht stopped talking.

“She knows what?” Aric sounded truly curious.

“Why are we talking about this?” Neacht asked instead.

He growled, the sound as frustrated as she felt. “Because I want us to be friends.”

“What?” she blinked at him. “Then why didn’t you let me apologize for hurting you!”

“Because you only hurt me because of what I said!”

Neacht opened her mouth, then closed it, speechless. His reasoning made sense. “But-” he held up a hand to stop her.

“I always heard one should never surprise a Force-sensitive, I just always assumed it meant they’d use the Force to chunk you against a wall, a Force-scream never crossed my mind and that’s my fault.” Closing the distance between them, taking her injured hand between his. “I’m sorry I surprised you. I’d like for us to be friends. Please?”

Neacht searched his face and his feelings. There was some emotion she couldn’t pinpoint but he was sincere. 

“Alright, but,” she started, “I’m sorry too. I should be more careful with how I handle my surprises.”

They stared at each other for a few seconds before Aric finally smiled, his thumb tracing her injured knuckles. “Apology accepted.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
